Let wel, die gedig is binnen 5 minute geskryf. Hy wil dit nie "publiseer" nie, hy het nie kans gehad om dit te redigeer nie. Hierdie is dus 'n rou stuk werk.
Monday is red
the color of autumn
rough and tough the sound the
sounds of picks a’ tilling the ground
but the sound of wind bristling through the trees
but how long it seems so long ago
now I sit in my small office window
with the smell of gas and the stiff of to much sitting
in my small office . In the windows I see a small lil tree
where the breeze cant get through the window but my farm is gone forever .
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